


Coffee Cups and Superheroes

by jordangreen03



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordangreen03/pseuds/jordangreen03
Summary: Clarke’s an ex-army medic working in a coffee shop with a whole lot of emotional baggage. Bellamy, a law student and avid Marvel fanatic, is on track to follow in his father’s footsteps and be everything he thought he was born to be. But what happens when he starts to fall for the apathetic and sarcastic barista at his favourite coffee place? What if his fate wasn’t as black and white as it seemed?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> hii! this is my first fic on here, but i have more on my tumblr, which is @jjordanjaspergreen. shout out to my friends damon and lexa for proof-reading and giving me tips!  
> i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!

Sun burst through the clouds, warming Clarke's back as she walked to the coffee shop where she worked. It was the first real day of spring. Flowers had begun to bloom, birds were singing, people were actually smiling as they passed her for the first time since Christmas. Clarke used to take things like this as a sign of things to come, that good things were just around the corner. But that was before.

Before Clarke was plunged into a world of destruction and death where even her own mortality stared her in the face constantly, before she realised that life didn't rely on pure fate and neither should she, before her entire world came crashing down and she had to rebuild it with her bare hands. 

When she arrived at the coffee shop, the door was already open. Even though it was only 10am, it was packed with people - students on their way to college, elderly people gossiping over tea and scones, businessmen grabbing a quick caffiene boost before work - and Clarke knew it would only get busier. She hurriedly slung her backpack with the loose stitches from the military patch she'd torn off under the counter, pulled on an apron and took her post next to Eric, the guy she usually shared a shift with.

Around lunch time, a customer caught her eye. A broad-shouldered man with curly hair walked in. He was dressed in a suit, like he was trying to look respectable and serious, but he had a Pokémon backpack that was covered in buttons from various shows and movies that would've easily pinned him as a nerdy teenager had it not been for his great height and smart suit.  
"One medium caramel frappé, please." His voice was deep, but kind.  
Clarke nodded. "Name?"  
The mysterious man flashed a dazzling grin that paired wonderfully with his rich brown eyes. He glanced down at her Marvel t-shirt peeking out from under her apron.  
"Peter Parker." Humour danced in his eyes. Clarke looked into them for the first time. At a glance, they appeared to just be brown. Looking closer, she realised that "brown" was far too simple of a way to describe them. His eyes were the colour of copper in honey, the shade of nature after it rains. They were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen.  
Clarke shook her head and brought herself back down to earth. "Right. I'll call you when it's ready, Mr. Parker." She tried to say his name with a straight face, but couldn't help chuckling.  
"Left your SpideySuit at Stark Tower, huh?" She asked, still smirking.  
"Shh!" He whispered with such an urgency that Clarke was taken aback. "I'm undercover. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman, y'know?" He winked at her, causing her to blush and giggle in a very un-Clarke-like way.  
"I get you. Well, Peter. Your coffee is ready. Have fun saving the neighbourhood."  
"Peter" flashed an irritatingly cute smile, winked again and left.

Feelings stirred in Clarke stomach. This handsome stranger had made her feel a way she hadn't felt since, well, high school when she dated her first - and only - boyfriend. She shook her head, attempted to shake off the memories of Finn and the thoughts from earlier about how the wonderful weather was a sign, and concentrated on her job.

 

For a few days, life went on as normal for her. She went to work, she came home, she took care of her dog, she went to therapy, and worked on her art. Her therapist had recommended for her to rekindle the love for art that she had before her trauma. She mainly did sketches of fictional characters and her dog (a golden retriever named Pikachu). However, now all Clarke seemed to be able to draw was a man. A tall man with curly hair and the most gorgeous eyes, a man dressed in a neat suit with a childish backpack. Even though she still hadn't seen him again, he was all that crossed her mind.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i posted chapter two on my tumblr last night, so i thought i'd post it here too! this one is quite short, my apologies, but the next two, which i've already written, are a lot longer. as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts!

Clarke could never quite manage to keep “Peter” out of her mind. Even doing the most mundane tasks, there he was. She had never felt this way before about anyone, neither her ex boyfriend or deceased girlfriend. Her cynical self knew that it was childish to have a crush on someone after talking to them for less than two minutes, yet she still yearned to see him again.

A week after they’d met, she’d almost given up hope.

It was 12pm and CLarke was already mind-numbingly bored. She was at work, and she hadn’t seen a single customer. It was pouring with rain, thunder clapping intermittently, and even their regulars ceased to show up. Clarke leaned against the counter, daydreaming. Without her noticing, a tall man in a dripping suit with a Pokémon backpack came through the door. His deep voice brought her down to earth. 

“One medium caramel frappé, please.”

Shock registered on her face as Clarke processed what just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head, as if reminding herself of her cynicism.

“Name?” Her voice was the one she always used for customer service : bland, empty and filled with annoyingly fake cheer.

“Tony Stark.” The man looked disappointed at Clarke’s lack of enthusiam. The bright grin he wore as he walked in looked like it had been wiped off of his face with the dirty mop sitting neglected in the corner of the café.

“Here you go, Mr. Stark.” Clarke passed him his coffee with a fake smile. In her head, she cursed herself as he left.

Clarke didn’t used to be like this. As a child, she was that one kid who was always frustratingly happy. Even into her teens, she smiled at everyone and just wanted the people she cared about to be happy. She was a huge believer in fate, and that the universe had a plan for everyone, and that everything happened for a reason. And then Finn started to take his anger out on her. Often, Clarke would leave dates covered in bruises and with a head full of insults. Still, she persevered. 

Until Finn started to get worse. He dropped out of their prestigious high school in favour of sinking pint after pint in a seedy bar and waste all of his father’s money on gambling. Every time he lost, that was it for Clarke. Eventually, she knew she had to leave. As soon as she graduated high school, she shipped herself off into the army to become a medic. She never told anyone the real reason. Her mother was proud of her, because that’s exactly what her father did. She’d lost most of her friends from dating Finn. And Finn? He didn’t notice until he realized his punching bag had left. The day she left, something inside Clarke broke. She had become an empty shell of the smiling kid she once was. And she’d only get emptier.

*Bellamy’s POV*

Bellamy didn’t know what it was about the cute girl who worked at his local coffee shop, but he was smitten with a capital S. Pretty blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, a soft smile that he could tell didn’t appear often, and her eyes were the brightest blue he’d ever seen. They looked like the sky on a beautiful summer’s day. 

He was intrigued by her, the way she carried herself. She looked.. not broken, but not completely whole either. Bellamy wished he could help, but he didn’t even know her. All he’d even said to her was some childish garbage about being Spiderman and IronMan. In his head, he wrestled with the thought that she wasn’t interested. She’d seemed so apathetic the last time he was in there. Bellamy didn’t give up that easily, though. If anything, he was tenacious. He /was/ a law student after all. He made a pact with himself to talk to her /properly/ the next time he was in there.

*Clarke’s POV*

The next day, at the exact same time, Bellamy walked in again. This time, Clarke smiled slightly at him, earning her a full grin back.

“One medium caramel frappé, please.”

“Name?”

“Bruce Banner.” His eyes shone brighter than the stars at Clarke’s small chuckle after he said it.

Much like the previous day, he paid and left with no further words between them. Though, she did notice that his expression looked almost scared or pained as he turned to leave.

In her head, Clarke planned to talk to him tomorrow. She told herself it was just to ask his name and his name only, because it was getting annoying not knowing his actual* name. Deep down, though, she craved something more. A real talk, his phone number…

But he never came the next day. Nor the day after. Clarke waited from the start of her shift until Eric closed up at 8pm - hours after her shift ended - but he never showed. Her mind flashed back to the day she left for the army, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness she felt, the realization that fate was garbage and that life wasn’t kind. She felt the same way when her ex-girlfriend passed. Maybe it was overdramatic, but she felt that way now, too. She’d only known “Peter” for a week and didn’t even know his real name, but he was almost like a beacon of hope for her, a sign of things to come, the first thing that had really made her smile for the first time in years. And now he was gone. To Clarke, this was just more proof of life’s cruelty.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! this is probably the chapter i enjoyed writing the most so far, so i really hope you like it too! as always, i'd love to hear your feedback. plus, comments and kudos make the writing go faster;)  
> ***trigger warning for severe nightmares***

Nightmares. They plagued Clarke every night, but not like tonight. No, tonight's was much worse. Her normal nightmares were like stubbing a toe : painful, but she'd get over it. This one was like having her arm removed without anesthetic. She woke abrubtly with tears streaming down her face, t-shirt and back dripping with sweat.   
The dream played on loop, but infinitely faster as she quietly shook with fear, the duvet balled up in her fists. She'd dreamed about being back in the army, like most nights. She wasn't a soldier, but a medic instead. She'd still seen and done awful things, though. Clarke's nightmare was haunted with the ghosts of those she couldn't save. The woman who'd had both legs blown off and had been hauled to her, already unconcious from pain. The man who'd begged her to just shoot him, to put him out of his misery. The girl who was barely 18 and fresh in the army who had pleaded with her to save her friend's life after her bullet wound had turned septic. She remembered every victim, every face, every tear - everyone who had died because she couldn't save them. Because she wasn't good enough.

Clarke's body racked with sobs and her breath came in ragged gasps. The acrid air she could smell in her dream still filled her nose and clogged her lungs. She just lay there, crying and alone, until she came to. Her breathing still coming in bursts, she tried to sip the water she always left on her bedside table. Clarke sat up slightly, and reached for her phone. The bright screen read 3.12am. With her entire being, she wished she had someone to text, someone who knew about her nightly episodes. The realisation came to her : she was completely and utterly alone in the world. Her father dead, her mother was somewhere at the other end of the country and she hadn't seen her since she was eighteen. With no friends or siblings to speak of, her mind turned to Finn. Her abusive ex. He was probably in prison right now. And then to Lexa. Her dead ex girlfriend. She'd died in a car accident, but Clarke survived. Even though it happened almost two years ago, she still remembered it like it was yesterday. Lexa had reached for Clarke's phone to change the music, and swerved into the rear end of a truck. Clarke was never told what killed her exactly, but she'd give anything to trade places with her.

She shook her head, as if trying to actually shake out the memories. Clarke concentrated on her breathing and the exercises her therapist had told her to do after times like this. After a short while, her breath came a little more evenly, and she lay back down. There was no way she could sleep after that, but she didn't have the energy to do anything else, either. So, there she lay until her alarm went off for work.

As if to match her mood, the rain fell in icy sheets. It chilled her to the bone as she walked the half hour to the coffee shop. Inside, Clarke shrugged off her sopping coat in favour of a starched apron boasting the shop's logo. After saying a hurried hello to her co-worker, Jackson, she stood her post and stared around at the empty café. Eventually, her mind started to wander into a daydream. Her mind conjured up images of a curly-haired man with gorgeous brown eyes, a man with a childish backpack and a kind smile. Her favourite customer. A faint blush spread across her cheeks, and she smiled and no one in particular. She didn't know it was possible to smile after the events of last night, but here she was. 

The bell that signalled someone entering the coffee shop pulled her back to earth. Suddenly, she was staring into the eyes of none other than the literal man of her (day)dreams. She started a little, but quickly regained her composure.  
He smiled at her, that easy grin that made her weak at the knees.   
"Medium caramel frappé, please."

Clarke smirked, trying not to show her feelings. "This time, what's your real* name? I've beeng writing goddamn Avengers' names on your dumb coffee cup for weeks now!" She wasn't really angry, just bantering with him.  
He smirked back, eyes shining with joy at the fact that she'd technically made the first move. "Actually, Peter Parker isn't an Avenger. Damn, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd do better." He mock-frowned, bantering back.  
"Actually, Tony makes Peter an Avenger in Infinity War. Damn, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd do better." She copied his tone exactly.   
He laughed and then clicked his tongue in fake-disappointment. "You have bested me. I guess you earned my name. I'm Bellamy. And yourself?" He offered his hand out for her to shake.  
Bellamy. The syllables rang through her head. She liked his name, felt like it fit him. It sounded royal, and he did seem almost princely with his goodlooks and the sure way he carried himself.   
"Hello, Bellamy." She savoured the way it felt on her tongue. "I'm Clarke." She shook his hand, feeling the rough callouses and the strength of his grip.

"Well, Clarke. Most important question you're going to be asked today : favourite avenger? And if you say Peter Parker, I'm not paying you for this coffee." His smile was wide and made Clarke's heart flutter.  
She rolled her eyes, still trying to come off nochalent. "Captain America, of course! He's clearly the best. And, hey! Peter is great*, even if he is a bit of a dork."  
"Thank god! For a second there, I thought you might've been a Tony stan, and I would've had to leave right here. Steve is totally the best. And Bucky! Don't even get me started on that man." A dreamy look was in his eye, as if he had a bit of a crush on Bucky.   
"Same! I loved his arc, and that smile he gave Cap in Infinty War - you know the one - always warms my heart." Clarke felt at ease, something that never really happened when she was talking to people. Her stomach fluttered everytime he smiled or even opened his mouth. She hated that she felt like this over someone who was basically a stranger, but did nothing to quell her feelings, and instead continued talking to him.

"So, clearly Cap is the superior Avenger, but which of his movies do you like the most? First Avenger, Winter Solider, or Civil War?" Clarke asked, tucking strands of her soft hair behind her ear.  
"Winter Soldier, it's gotta be! Or First Avenger. Civil War was good, but it had Tony, so y'know."  
Clarke chuckled. "That's fair. Winter Soldier is an amazing movie. How about-" Clarke was cut off by the Pokémon theme tune. She was bewildered, until Bellamy took his phone out of his suit pocket.

"The-the Pokémon theme is your ring tone? Iconic, truly." She sniggered.   
Bellamy frowned in mock-sadness. "Hey, Pokémon is a classic! I gotta take this, give me a moment, Princess?"   
To her horror, Clarke blushed at the nickname, but nodded. She tried not to listen into the conversation, but heard the urgency in Bellamy's voice and saw his smile drop.  
"Shit, I have to go. Bye." He rushed off without another word, leaving Clarke alone. 

Her heart sank. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she loved talking to him and wish she could've done it longer. She hoped he'd come back after he'd finished the phone call or done whatever was so urgent, but deep down knew it wouldn't happen. Clarke sighed, wishing she knew more about him than just his name. 

She was alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke’s an ex-army medic working in a coffee shop with a whole lot of emotional baggage. Bellamy, a law student and avid Marvel fanatic, is on track to follow in his father’s footsteps and be everything he thought he was born to be. But what happens when he starts to fall for the apathetic and sarcastic barista at his favourite coffee place? What if his fate wasn’t as black and white as it seemed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! this is definitely my favourite chapter so far, so i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! as always, i'd love to know any thoughts/criticism. my tumblr is @jjordanjaspergreen, which has more of my work on if anyone is interested too^-^
> 
> ***note*** slight trigger warning for biphobia/unaccepting parents

Bellamy's POV*  
Bellamy's breathing came heavily, his chest rising and falling dramatically. He'd ran all the way to his father's law office. All he'd said was that it was urgent and he needed to be there quickly. Bellamy's mother had been in and out of hospital for the last six months, so his mind immidately went to the worst.

He was sat in a too-soft armchair in the waiting room of the office. The secretary kept eyeing him suspiciously, like he was about to either puke on her spotless carper or steal something. The walls were painted a pale shade of red and had various expensive-looking paintings hung on them. The carpets were the ugliest shade of grey Bellamy could imagine. An array of light blue chairs and sofas filled most of the space, with the secretary's desk in one corner and tables stacked with business cards in the others. Next to the elevator was an out-of-order watercooler. 

In between the dirty looks she gave him, the secretary loudly sipped coffee. The coffee made him think of Clarke, and his heart sank. He was ashamed that he left so suddenly, but it was* urgent. Really talking to her earlier was so wonderful, and he wished he'd gotten her number. For once, though, his mind wasn't on Clarke, but instead his mother.

The elavator doors opening dragged him from his thoughts. Seeing his father, Bellamy was reminded of why he was here. He felt guilty that he was dreaming about some girl that probably didn't even like him back when his mother could be on her death bed. He stood up and went to greet his father.   
"Ah, Bellamy! wonderful to see you."  
"Hello, Father. Is Mother okay? Is she why you called me here?" His voice was filled with urgency and desperation.  
"What? Your mother is fine*." Augustus, Bellamy's father, had an exasperated tone at his son's concerns.  
"Then why did you call me here urgently?" Bellamy said, dragging a hand through his curls.  
"Oh, I was wondering how your law degree was going, and thought that'd get you here faster." 

Bellamy sighed. His law degree was the only thing his father cared about. They'd never been close, but lately all he talked about was the dumb degree he didn't even want to do. If he has been able to choose, he'd have studied music. He loved writing and playing music on his guitar. He'd won the school talent show, and even placed highly in a few national competitions. But he knew that he really would've been excommunicated from the family if he'd chosen that. Instead, he'd taken law as his father instructed. He was on track to eventually take over his law office and finally be the son his father always wanted.  
"You know, I have no idea why you care about your mother more than you do me. I'm* the one who's leaving his legacy to you! Your mother has what? A degree in /art/, of all things, and only you and your sister to show for an entire life of work." Augustus muttered, disappointment and disgust in his voice at his wife's choices.

Bellamy felt fury rise in him. "Maybe because Mom is the one who actually, y'know, accepts and supports me!" Hot anger simmered in his stomach, and his eyes darkened like clouds before a storm, as they always did whenever he fought with his father.  
Augustus sighed. "Don't start with that shit again. Whatever you are - bisexual? - isn't real. There's two sexualities - gay and straight. You can't like both, that's not how sexuality works, dipshit. Pick a side, so that I can either set you up with some of my colleagues' daughters or kick you out for good." His words dripped with venom and what seemed like pure hatred.  
Bellamy's stomach tightened. He hated it when his father said things like this. It made his skin crawl and he felt disgusting.  
"Whatever, Dad. If you need me, I'll be loving both men and women. Fuck you." He said this nonchalantly enough, but his heart was pounding. He turned away and left, leaving his father yelling after him.

Bellamy sighed. The anger had left him now and left him feeling empty. His father was a dick, but he didn't have to be that much of a dick. He was sat on a bench in the middle of town. Thankfully, the rain from earlier that morning had subsided. The sky was still overcast, though, matching his mood. Without even thinking about it, he knew where to go to calm down. His feet moved almost of their own accord and within moments he was at his local rock-climbing place. He loved climbing. It always helped him with his anger and anxiety, and gave him a healthy outlet. Maybe his head would be clear enough to go to apologise to a certain gorgeous Marvel fanatic soon...

 

***

*Clarke's POV*  
Sighing, Clarke wiped down the few tables that had been used that day and begun to stack the chairs. It was 7.30pm and just before closing. The sun had almost set, and the streets were lit by dim street lamps, casting gloomy shadows into the coffee shop. Bellamy hadn't made any other appearance and Clarke felt lonelier than ever. She hadn't had a lot of time to process what happened the night before, but now her mind was free to wander and all the thoughts came flooding back. All she wanted to do was go home and get drunk out of her mind. At least alcohol shut up the memories.

Just as Clarke was about to lock up and leave, the bell signalling someone's entry rang to her dismay.  
"God fucking damn it, we close in, like, five minutes! All the machines are already switched off," she muttered under her breath.  
"Well, that's not a very nice way to greet your favourite Pokémon fan," came a familiarly deep voice.  
Clarke looked up and was met with the beautiful eyes of Bellamy. She smiled brightly, unable to help herself.  
"Hey, Tony Stark's number one fan." Humour glinted in her own eyes and her smile turned to a playful smirk.  
Bellamy chuckled. "Too far. Anyway, hello to you, too. Sorry about running off so suddenly earlier. My dad..." He trailed off, sighing. "It doesn't matter. It's not important.  
"Maybe you don't want to explain, and that's okay, of course. But it does matter." She spoke softly, closer physically to him now. They were inches away and she wanted more than anything to stroke his freckled cheek or take his hands.   
Bellamy gave her a sad smile. "Thanks, Princess." He coughed and shook his head. "Anyway! I wanted to ask you.. Would you maybe like to come see Deadpool 2 with me? It's just come out in the theatres, and I know you like Marvel." He took a deep breath. "I'd also like to get to know you better, if that's okay?" Bellamy's sad smile turned hopeful with his last remark.

Inside, Clarke was bursting with joy. She kept her cool exterior, though. "That sounds great! I'm at work until Thursday this week, so maybe Friday?" She tried to offer it offhandedly, but she couldn't help but smile.  
Bellamy's small smile turned into the grin she already loved. "Great! Friday is great. I'll have to look up the showings, though. Could I maybe, uh, get your number?" Clarke thought he sounded nervous, like a high-schooler asking his crush to prom. It was kind of adorable.   
She smiled again. "Uh, sure. She grabbed the pen and paper pad out of her apron pocket and quickly scribbled down her number, adding a small "C" next to a heart.  
"Awesome! I'll, uh, text you when I figure out the timings?"  
She nodded, butterflies flooding her stomach. "I'll look forward to hearing from you." Her voice was soft again, but had flirtatious tones.   
He blushed, nodding. "Catch you later, Princess!" Without another word, he jogged out of the store.

Again, Clarke was left alone. This time, though, her mind was filled with thoughts of her date and the boy who'd asked her on it. This time, she thought maybe she'd be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy, i'm so sorry i haven't uploaded in a while. i started back at school, and i've been so busy. just a reminder that my tumblr where i'm much more active is @bellemeblake! i hope you enjoy the chapter :)

That evening, Clarke's heart was light. She danced around her small apartment, singing old love songs and grinning to herself. Bucky, her dog, joined in with low howls.   
"Feels like I'm knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door..." Clarke's voice was beautiful. Soft and melodic, with hints of sadness. Her father used to sing to her, and she joined in as soon as she was old enough. Every weekend, he used to take her to a forest near their house. There, the trees were full of the prettiest birds. Her father would often hum simple tunes for them to repeat back. Those weekends were some of Clarke's best memories.

Just as the song ended, her phone chimed. It was from an unknown number, but started with "Hey, Princess!", so she knew who it was immediately. A smile spread across her face and she clicked on it.  
"Hey, Princess! Checked the times. 5.30pm on Friday okay for you? -Bellamy"  
It was less than fifteen words, but meant the world to Clarke. Deep down, she wondered if he would* text her, but she was so glad that she had. Her hands shook with anxiety slightly as she texted back.  
"Hi! Yeah, that sounds great! Meet you at the movies? x" Her fingers hovered over the send button, her chest tightening. She shook her head and pressed it, sighing slightly.  
Within moments, her phone chimed again.  
"Sure! Looking forward to seeing you <3"  
Smiling again, Clarke quickly typed out her response. "Me too! <3". This time, she didn't hesitate.

 

It was 5pm on Friday - date night. Clarke's excitement drowned out any nervousness.

She was sat crosslegged on her bed. Her bedroom, as always, was perfectly tidy. Her closet was open to reveal her perfectly ironed clothes. Stacks of books were neatly arranged on the lower three shelves of her bookshelf. The top one had an array of succulents - all named after an array of Marvel characters - in polished mason jars. The two below were filled with a mix of Marvel and Game of Thrones figurines. Strings of pale fairy lights were strung across the shelves. On her walls hung a large bisexual pride flag, a signed poster of Captain America, and various photos. Most of them were of her dog or her and her old friends, but the one in the middle was her favourite. It was a photo of her and her dad in the forest with the birds. One of the birds was her on her father's shoulder. His other arm was around a nine-year-old Clarke. Both wore matching grins with slight dimples. To sum it up, her room was a Pintrest user's dream.

With a deft hand, she applied light makeup to her face. Clarke was already dressed in blue skinny jeans that hugged her thighs, a tight Deadpool tanktop and an open flannel shirt. She was trying to look cute, but without trying too hard. And she succeeded. Her blonde hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. She tucked one strand behind her ear and looked in the mirror. A small smile crept onto her face. She'd never been friends with her body, but over the last few years she'd been trying to make peace was it. She no longer hated what she saw, and instead accepted it. Her body was just that. Her body. It allowed her to do so many wonderful things, so whenever things were bad, she tried to focus on that instead of it's aesthetics.

Before leaving, Clarke slipped her feet into brown boots and put in her headphones. Her hands shook as she patted Bucky, her dog, goodbye and locked the door, but she steadied her breathing and left. 

Her heart almost stopped as she turned the corner towards the movie theatre. A tall man in a grey button down and black jeans with a childishly adorable backpack was leaning against the wall. He was so gorgeous.  
"Hey, Bellamy." Her voice was filled with fake confidence, but her smile was as real as the constellations of freckles on Bellamy's face.  
"Hey, Clarke." Dark brown hair fell in curls across his forehead and into his beautiful eyes, which were shining with happiness.  
They exchanged mundane pleasantries as they walked into the theatre, but both were grinning still.

"How much do I owe you for my ticket?" Clarke said, reaching for the cash in her pocket.  
"Nothing! This is my treat, Clarke." Clarke loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. He had a slight accent that she couldn't quite pinpoint, but it sounded cute, especially in his deep tones.  
She rolled her eyes, but blushed. "Okay, but I'll buy popcorn." Taking his hand, she pulled him into the queue for snacks. She didn't let go. His palm was warm and rough with callouses. Her small hand fitted perfectly inside his larger one. Bellamy looked down at their clasped hands and smiled.   
"Salty or sweet?"   
"Salty. Just like how salty I was over Infinity War."  
Bellamy chuckled. "Oh, me too, babe." She swore her heart exploded at that.

 

They sat side by side in the darkened theatre, chatting softly. There were no awkward silences and it was like they'd known each other all their lives. As the screen turned to the familiar Marvel start-up, Bellamy took her hand again and didn't let go until the credits rolled.

"I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life*!" exclaimed Bellamy, as the couple walked hand-in-hand out of the theatre.   
"I know right!" Clarke chuckled at the memories. "And Negasonic and Yukio! Adorable!" She subtly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to reveal her bisexual pride studs. She did it nochalantly enough, but her heart was racing.  
Bellamy's face registered shock, but soon turned to pure joy. "Hey, I'm bi, too!" His smile was a mile-wide.  
"Oh my god, really?!" Without thinking, she quickly hugged him before letting go and offering an embarrassed smile instead. "Sorry..."  
"It's okay, C!" He hugged her back, longer this time. As he pulled away, Bellamy gently pressed his lips to hers. Clarke leaned into the kiss, feeling a blush spread over her cheeks. Fireworks exploded in her stomach. The whole world could have disappeared and she wouldn't have cared.

Bellamy pulled away. "You really are a princess, huh." His voice was soft and husky.   
Clarke smiled. "Not too bad yourself, Bell."   
He grinned back. "Noted." He paused. "Would you like to, maybe, uh, come back to my place?" Bellamy ran a hand through his curls, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously and winking.

Alarm bells rang in Clark's head and fear built in her stomach, clogging her throat. Her palms shook slightly and it felt like her legs were jelly. The only thought she could process was "!!!!!DANGER!!!!!!"  
"I, uh, gotta go," she mumbled almost incoherently before taking off. Her legs were weak, but still surprisingly fast.  
"Clarke, wait! I'm sorry!" Bellamy called after her, but she was already gone, her fluttering blonde hair a mere slash of light down the dark street.


End file.
